The Mekong is right up there on the list of scary rivers: at least the bit we travelled from Thar Sueng to Luang Prabang is. The brown water, muddied by the monsoon, foams into speckled-water rapids and whirlpools right across the river. The speedboat jumps some of the larger whirlpools, which is exciting as they're the same diameter as the boat. Nearing the shores, waves erupt into frilly walls of water, which look like crowns.

Later reference to the guide book informs me that these curly waves can overturn boats hit at the wrong angle. Our boatman ventured near them only twice and didn't hit them at the wrong angle.

We're daring this trip to find a bank. We've been riding elephants and they're expensive. I parted with $160, which should substantially increase the GDP of several villages.

Banks are not common in mountainous northern Laos. We head straight to Luang Prabang, the last royal capital. We are so low on kip (the local currency) that it wants only one disaster and we'll be destitute. We are rewarded with not one disaster but several. Our guesthouse owner announces she is leaving for a conference in Vientiane, but her housekeeper will provide our meals. We find that relatives and friends of the housekeeper have eaten our food and so we set off to find a cheap dinner.

We next board a speedboat at Thar Sueng, as the quest for cash continues, and arrive at our destination in a short three hours. The reason for our speed? The boat has brought us to Pak Beng, which is in the opposite direction.

A boatman says "you pay 1,000,000 kip ($120) and be the only passengers". I eventually give in to his best offer of 800,000 kip. It's better to travel by speedboat on a river full of whirlpools, flotsam and jetsam in the light.

We prepare to enjoy our scenic spree. Then the heavens open. Things start floating around our feet. The boatman sighs, climbs over us and covers our things. Eventually we arrive at some superior stone steps leading up a vertical cliff: Luang Prabang.

Yet another disaster. It's a public holiday. The bank is closed.

"Why you not stay at Pak Beng?" the boatman asks, which is located in the opposite direction. He suggests we can return the next day with a full boat of tourists, which is less costly. "Well, thank you," I say. "Next time I'll know."